


Do You Want This Back?

by Kimium



Series: Immortal AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Blood, Brief mention of nudity for .5 seconds, Brief suggestion of cutting out Owain's tongue, Established Relationship, Hints to organs being stabbed, Immortal!Owain, Kidnapping, Knives, M/M, Mention of non consensual drugging, Modern AU, Murder attempt, Murder attempts that would have worked if Owain wasn't immortal, Nonchalant Owain, Oblivious!Owain, One Shot, Poison attempt, Reference to this not being Leo and Niles's first gig, Restraints, Serial Killer Couple Leo/Niles, Serial Killer!Leo, Serial Killer!Niles, Showers, Skewed Morals, Stabbing, dark humour, from everyone, grey morals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:49:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One Shot. Modern AU. Immortal!Owain Serial Killers! Leo and Niles.**Please read my tags and warnings in the author's note**Owain looked around the room. It was still covered in shadows, save for Owain who realized a bit belatedly that he was surrounded by a single light. However, it had to be a basement, as cliché as the horror movies made the setting out to be. That meant that somehow, in his adventure for a drink, food, and company he had received food and drink (although drugged). He had also received company but given their current setting and his predicament the clues pointed to—“Shit.” Owain cursed again.Serial killers. That had to be it.Or where Immortal!Owain has Very Rotten Luck and Stab Happy Couple Leo and Niles have a bit of a Shock.





	Do You Want This Back?

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST! I want to say if ANY of my TAGS bother you, you should exit from this fic. You're in charge of your well being and your well being is the Most Important. Please, take care! While I don't get too detailed or violent I have many very uncomfortable ideas in this fic and I don't want anyone uncomfortable reading this.
> 
> (Next, to anyone who's waiting for the next chapter of Self-Fulfilling Prophesy I have half of it written I promise I'll do my best to post that ASAP.)
> 
> Hello everyone!
> 
> I thought of this fic on my drive home this weekend. It sort of stemmed from another idea I had floating around but this was so different I felt it warranted its own fic. I remember years ago when I was reading more in the NBC Hannibal fandom of a fic with the similar premise (Immortal meets Serial Killer and Revelations Happen). However, I did my best to write this with my own flair. I think that's the beauty of ideas; we can explore them in our own ways.
> 
> **Also note that Leo and Niles may feel a bit off from canon because you know, they're serial killers in this AU.**  
> **This also applies to Owain but because he's Immortal (see my end note for more)**
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this fic even if this went a bit darker than some may be used to me writing (though I suppose that is subjective to what you think is dark). Please feel free to leave kudos and comments as those always make my day! Finally, if you wish to check my tumblr out, message me there, or what not, the link is right [here](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

Owain woke to the sound of a knife being sharpened.

Wiggling a bit, Owain’s conscious slowly drifted upward, bobbing along like a piece of drift wood down slightly rocky stream. White and then dark flashed rapidly behind his eyes before it settled in a blinding grey. Grey soon was filled with a fuzzy filter, like an old television set with a lost connection. Owain wiggled more, a bit more coordinated of a wiggle and realized his arms were tied, pulled taunt behind his back. His legs were tied too, ankles to a firm wooden chair. Under his arms Owain began to feel the planks of the chair’s back digging into his back and under arms. The shirt Owain was wearing was warm but not thick enough to protect the uncomfortable feeling of the chair digging into his back. Owain tried to swallow and found his throat dry. A cough caught and he fell into a coughing fit, his brain hurt from the force and Owain wished he could cover his mouth.

“He’s awake.”

The voice was low, smooth, distant. Owain’s brain settled from his cough and he did his best to try and identify who was talking. Nothing came to mind but Owain made himself look up. In the haze of grey, that was slowly fading, Owain saw a man with white hair tied back in a low ponytail. His single blue eye (the other hidden by an eyepatch) stared at Owain and his dark clothes hid most of his body from sight, like he was bleeding into the shadows. Owain blinked again and made his brain kick start the thinking process. He had seen this man before, if he just dug around his memory…

“Great, we can start then.”

Another voice, almost distant and colder. Owain saw another man walk forward. His hair was short and blond. He wasn’t wearing as dark of clothes as his partner, but his shirt was distinctly…

“Your shirt is inside out.” Owain croaked, coughing a bit, clearing his throat. “Might want to fix that.”

He didn’t see the man’s reaction as Owain’s head ached slightly at the cough. When he regained vision the two were standing closer to him. Owain could then see the gleam of metal in the white-haired man’s hand. It was a knife, a large, menacing knife.

The image disjointed a touch and Owain did his best to assess the situation. His mind jolted a touch and memories flooded, though covered in a thin layer of grease.

He had gone out to a bar, just for a drink or two (and to possibly meet some people). The two men before him talked to him. Owain was sure of it. Or maybe only Owain talked to them. He couldn’t remember the finer details of the conversation. He had eaten and had drinks. Owain could taste the sour aftertaste in his mouth. That’s probably where the source of his memory loss came from. If he could judge from the way they had him tied to a chair and a knife in one of their hands then—

“Ah, shit.” Owain groaned. “You slipped something in my drink.”

“We did.” The blond man agreed.

That explained a lot. Owain looked around the room. It was still covered in shadows, save for Owain who realized a bit belatedly that he was surrounded by a single light. However, it had to be a basement, as cliché as the horror movies made the setting out to be. That meant that somehow, in his adventure for a drink, food, and company he had received food and drink (although drugged). He had also received company but given their current setting and his predicament the clues pointed to—

“Shit.” Owain cursed again.

Serial killers. That had to be it. They had drugged him, taken him to their murder basement, and were planning on stabbing him up. Then they’d dispose of his body and return to their clean, seemingly ordinary lives, Owain just another entry in their “kill count notebook” (not literal because that would be idiotic to keep blatant evidence lying around). Except, Owain looked at his body and held back a panicked, strangled sound.

“Now he’s comprehending.” One of them said.

Oops. So, he made the sound aloud. Owain would have blushed if not for the situation weighing heavily on him, pressing him down. There were many situations Owain had found himself in during his (long, long, long) life and so far, his secret hadn’t been threatened to be exposed so blatantly.

After all, what were the odds of running into a murder couple and being picked as their target?

Past Owain should have considered buying lottery tickets.

The damage was done, however, so now Owain had to deal with the situation. Except all coherent thought was flying out through his ears. He couldn’t move and by the looks of the knife they weren’t going to talk to him before proceeding to bury the weapon into his fleshy body. If only Severa was present. She’d know what to say. Or perhaps Lucina. She was always the diplomatic one. Sadly, Owain assumed the murder couple weren’t going to give him the “phone a friend” option.

Time to try his best to talk them out of it. Looking at them, Owain eyed the knife and then the two men standing before him.

“You don’t really want to stab me.” Owain tried.

The blond man narrowed his eyes. “Don’t presume to know how we feel.”

“I’ve actually been looking forward to stabbing you.” The other added.

 _Conversation terminated. Conversation terminated._ Owain’s mind flashed and flared like a secret government bunker under attack. What was he to do? He couldn’t just break free of the rope. They had also tied his arms and legs in a way that Owain couldn’t break his wrist to try and free himself. The chair was even bolted to the floor so Owain couldn’t tip himself over. They were smart, calculated. This was routine and Owain was just the small cog in their routine. Everything was fine tuned and all Owain could do was be a part of it. All he could do was let them stab him. That wasn’t an option Owain wanted to play out. It would spell trouble. He’d be in so much trouble. The only option was to try again with the talking.

“Can’t we talk about this?” He asked again before his brain caught on the other part. “And what do you mean you’ve been looking forward to stabbing me?”

“It’s very bold of you to keep pleading with us.” The blond man answered.

For a hot second Owain was simply glad he received a response. That elation was ruined when the white-haired man moved in and stabbed Owain cleanly, pressing the knife into his stomach. Owain gasped out in surprise and felt the blade sink in. It pierced his shirt and his skin. It went into muscle and tissue, threatening to hit his stomach. Owain sincerely hoped not. That would become very messy very quickly. Blood dripped down the handle of the knife and the metallic smell filled the room. Owain could taste it on his tongue and waited for the man to step a bit away, as though he wanted to gage his reaction.

Owain didn’t bother looking at the two. He looked down at the knife in his stomach. It was all the way in, the hilt sticking out of him. Blood was very quickly pooling down and onto his thighs. Owain should feel dizzy from blood loss and pain from his stomach being cut open.

That wasn’t how it worked for centuries and it sadly wasn’t going to change any time soon.

Owain look back at the men and wished he could point to his stomach, just to make sure his words were clear. They weren’t talking so Owain had to assume they were waiting for his response.

“Ouch?” Owain tried.

They didn’t bat an eyelash. Was that not the appropriate response? Owain tried to think. Maybe they wanted him to do the classic screaming and crying? If so, his reaction was delayed. Owain had missed his cue to look and sound like a regular person being stabbed.

Should he play it off? Maybe he should play it off as shocked? Play this out as though he was in shock or filled with adrenaline? That’s how movies showed it, right? Shock before gasping and coughing up blood? Was that it? Owain supposed he could try that route but it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as they were probably hoping. Really, his chance to play normal had long passed so his secret was most likely exposed.

Immortality was just as much of the curse as every single story and movie portrayed it as, but if Owain was going to take the positives of his curse he could at least play dying better for the serial killers that used their energy and resources to kidnap him with the intention of offing him.

“So,” Owain tried talking again, “do you—” He coughed and there wasn’t even blood. How disappointing. “Do you want this back?”

The two looked at each other, eyes a bit wide, before the blond man leaned in and twisted the knife in Owain’s stomach. Owain gasped because that’s probably the reaction he was supposed to have, but his gasp must have been unsatisfactory. Did that mean Owain could return to talking to them?

“Maybe we could put the knife down and talk now that you got that stab out of your system?”

The white-haired man finally spoke, a frown on his lips, his single blue eye staring directly at Owain. “That’s not what people usually say when they have a knife in them.”

Owain tilted his head. “What do people usually say to you?”

“Mostly screaming. A lot of it. There is also begging.”

That’s what the movies showed, at least, sometimes. It was good to know what sort of reaction the two were seeking. Owain could work with that. “Would you prefer if I was screaming and begging? I mean, you’re clearly into that.”

The looks they were giving him. Owain winced. Perhaps he could backtrack and rephrase his question? Owain opened his mouth, to possibly try and play his reaction as delayed but the white-haired man moved.  There was no time to think. The white-haired man pulled the knife out of Owain roughly. Blood pooled and then he stabbed Owain in the arm. This time, Owain gasped out as dramatically as he could because clearly, this is what they wanted. More blood pooled but the two were silent, stepping back. They were looking at him with wide eyes, expressions that broke through their cold satisfaction of being able to take someone’s life viciously.

Their looks all but confirmed Owain’s suspicions that his secret was out. Owain knew that later when he saw Severa she’d be the one most upset. He sent a silent apology to her and to his two captors who were probably recalculating everything they knew in the universe. Owain had to admit, he did the same thing too, when he had first woken up and realized death wasn’t taking him or his friends no matter what they tried.

“Don’t worry.” Owain hoped he sounded sincere. “This has happened before.” He then paused. “I mean not exactly like this. I’ve never met a serial killer couple.” He paused again. "Or a murder couple. I’m sorry. I’m not sure how many you’ve killed.” Owain bit his lip. “I’ve started this off all wrong, haven’t I?”

The white-haired man narrowed his eye and suddenly was tugging Owain’s head back roughly. Owain felt the gleam of the knife at his throat, pressing. Wiggling his fingers in retaliation Owain swallowed and felt the knife press harder.

“You,” The white-haired man hissed, “shouldn’t be able to talk right now. You should be screaming and in pain. Begging for your pathetic life would be the extra cherry on top.”

Owain flailed internally. “Ouch…” He wiggled a little. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll explain properly. There is a perfectly logical reason why I’m not dead.” Owain then flailed at his word choice. “I mean it’s not exactly logical. I’m still hazy with the details. I’ll do my best though. It all started when we met Naga. Oh, Naga is a dragon. An actual dragon. She’s slight and a shimmery green, like a jade in the sunlight. Anyways, there was this horrible incident involving… well that’s not important, anyways there was this pocket of time and looping like Groundhog Day. The movie not the actual day and then next thing we knew we were in front of Naga and she explained that the time continuum was overlapping with us and we were sort of abnormalities in the stream of time so we were kicked out of it so to speak and now we cannot—”

The feeling of the knife moving over his throat was smooth and clean. Owain was sure if he was normal, he wouldn’t have felt the knife and the lack of oxygen and blood loss would have killed him instantly. Not Owain. He was still very aware. Then, something else was in Owain’s side, something sharp, another knife most likely. A few more things were pushed into Owain at varying positions of importance. The most notable being the full few seconds of oxygen lost when a knife was obviously pushed into his chest. Owain’s eyes immediately shut, similar to the dolls that when horizontal, their eyes shut. Except Owain was slumped over the chair. A long few moments passed before Owain felt something else being driven into him. Silence filled the room and Owain lost an entire minute of consciousness before it flickered back for the second time that night.

“Is he dead?”

Owain groaned in response and slowly forced his head up, his body as upright as he could make it given how he was tied to the chair. The two killers were looking at Owain. Owain blinked and wished he could have a glass of water. His throat tickled. Coughing, Owain felt a bit of blood drip down his lips, and then felt the soreness of his throat. He opened his mouth to ask for water but Owain immediately caught on the first sound and began to cough loudly.

“W—Water…” Owain barely was able to choke the word out.

They didn’t give him a drink of water. They did, however, splash water on him, cold and refreshing across Owain’s face. Some dripped down his lips and Owain licked it, swallowing what he could. The little was heaven against his throat. Owain shook his head, feeling the water spray over his shirt and shoulders. The rest was dripping down his neck. Owain waited until most of it was done dripping down his face before he tried talking again.

“To drink.” Owain requested.

Silence and then a sigh. The white-haired man walked forward and shoved a glass under Owain’s lips. Owain parted his lips and drank the water gratefully. More spilled but that was due to control and Owain’s hands tied behind his back. He wasn’t going to complain. He was just finishing when the other spoke.

“You’re not dying.”

“I’m not.” Owain replied, his throat feeling better. “I didn’t even finish explaining why I can’t die.” Owain almost pouted but he had more important things to worry about. "Anyways if I could continue—”

“Nothing can kill you?” The white-haired man cut Owain off.

Owain shut his mouth and then opened it. “Not that I know of. It isn’t something I tested.”

The two shot each other a look before turning around and flicking the lights on. Owain flinched at the change in brightness, his eyes taking a moment to adjust. They were indeed in a basement, an unfinished one. The cement on the floor under Owain had a drain that was covered with a thick layer of a clear plastic mat. At their elbows was a tray, like a medical one made of metal. There were a variety of sharp objects on there and quite a few were rusted with blood. Owain’s blood. Owain tore his eyes away and looked at the couple. They had a bit of blood on them, mainly their hands and around the knuckles. That had to be from holding the various instruments. Other than those few things, there wasn’t much to look at. Owain looked away from them and down at himself. While his body had healed, not a single scar or blemish on his skin, Owain was caked in blood. His clothes were ruined and their only salvation was to be burned. Sighing, Owain looked at the couple. If the lights were on it meant they were done stabbing him, which meant…

“So, uh, excuse me…?” Owain called out. They turned but didn’t say anything so Owain just continued. “If you don’t mind, could I borrow your shower? I’m sort of caked in blood. Also, I need another set of clothes.”

Both turned to each other and whispered something. Owain felt, for what felt like the millionth time that evening he had messed up how he asked things. Perhaps he should start at the very beginning.

“I’m sorry, maybe that was demanding of me? I don’t even remember your names. Could we redo our introductions? I’m Owain.”

Another look before the blond man rubbed his hair, streaking a bit of blood in the locks. “I’m Leo. This is my husband, Niles.”

So, calling them a murder couple wasn’t wrong. Owain filed that away. “All right, Leo, Niles, do you mind if I borrow your shower and have a change of clothes?”

“The shower is upstairs.” Leo told Owain slowly, like he was giving away some sort of secret. “You’re in the basement.”

Owain wasn’t sure what the secret was. “Ah? Okay?” Owain wanted to scratch his head. “I assumed this was the basement considering—”

“You’re in the basement because we kidnapped you and tied you to this chair with the express intention of murdering you.” Leo continued very sharply. “A slow and painful murder I will add. You’re taking this rather well.”

Leo had a point. Screaming, crying, and begging were all things that Owain should have been doing. Owain should be dead. Anyone else would be dead. Even if he wasn’t dead the fact still stood that Leo and Niles were doing something highly illegal and morally wrong. Owain shouldn’t feel calm. He should be horrified and terrified of them. They had done everything with precision and grace. Hurting others wasn’t something that bothered them. That fact alone should make Owain uncomfortable.

Except being alive for so long must have skewed Owain’s brain somewhere. Sure, the idea of them hurting someone who could die made Owain’s heart hurt a little and his stomach twist but with him all they had done is exhaust themselves and bloody up the place. If Owain could place a metaphor on the situation he equated it to a punching bag. Hitting punching bags doesn’t affect others because the bag isn’t harmed in the end. Owain was that punching bag. He wasn’t harmed. If a boxer however, punched a person then people felt bad because that person could be harmed. Then again, the world wasn’t fair. That same philosophy was applying to Leo and Niles going after other people: it wasn’t exactly “nice” but the world wasn’t “fair.” Other people’s desires always harmed others to be fulfilled.

“I suppose so.” Owain mused, opening his mouth to explain his very clever metaphor but then he remembered the blood. “Look, I can discuss philosophy and my thoughts later. May I please have a shower? If you’re worried about me trying to escape or phone the police, I’ll remind you that my evidence is “they stabbed me multiple times in their basement and I should be dead but I’m not”. If anything, people will think I am drunk. I don’t even have stab wounds.”

Niles looked at Owain for a long second before he walked over and pulled a switch blade out from a pocket Owain hadn’t realized was there before. He then pressed it close to Owain’s lips.

“Tell me, if I cut your tongue out what would happen?”

Owain shrugged. “You were steps away from gutting me and everything healed up. You stabbed my heart and my lungs and those are completely healed. I’m sure my tongue would just grow back like any other part of me.”

Niles huffed before he moved and cut the ropes at Owain’s legs swiftly. He then cut the rope at Owain’s wrists. Owain flexed his arms and felt very sore and stiff. Standing up awkwardly Owain realized that he could barely walk, only shuffle. Oh well.

“Upstairs you said?” Owain asked.

“Yes,” Niles pressed the tip of the knife at Owain’s back. “I’ll take you.”

Owain wanted to tell Niles the knife was useless but Niles knew that by now and it was probably just a comfort action. So, Owain said nothing and let Niles lead him upstairs. The upper part of the house was dark but Owain saw some furnishings before he was led to a stair case to the second floor. Walking up, Owain was prodded to turn to the right and down the hall before he reached a door. Niles leaned over and opened it.

The bathroom was spacious with two sinks, a large tub and shower that were separate, and a linen closet on the side. Owain gaped at the sheer luxury. The lights were in rectangles that looked like paper lanterns and the tilted floor was in long strips of an off grey. The counters were a speckled marble.

“Wow, this is so nice.” Owain complimented. “You two have a very nice bathroom.”

Niles pulled a set of towels from the linen closet and set them on the counter by one of the sinks. “Use these. Don’t put the clothes on the floor. Throw them into here.” He then pulled a black garbage bag.

“Okay.”

Owain didn’t bat an eye. He stripped. He felt Niles look at him, his eye roaming to see if Owain had any injuries. There were none, but Owain heard his surprise at the tattoo that was nestled in the crook of Owain’s arm, just above his elbow. He and Lucina called it the Symbol of the Exalt.

“So, your body lets you have tattoos?”

“No,” Owain shook his head. “I had this before I become immortal. Any piercings or tattoos now will fully heal over.”

“Interesting.”

Owain smiled. “Thanks” He then dropped his clothes into the bag as Niles instructed before turning to the shower. “How does this work?”

“Here.” Niles opened the door and turned the knobs. Soon, hot water fell and the room became steamy.

Giving Niles a grateful smile, Owain walked into the shower and began to wash up. Distantly he heard the door shut and knew Niles had left. Now with a bit of privacy, though Owain suspected Niles was right outside the door, Owain began to wash up. He used what was in the shower already, some of the shampoo and conditioner. Blood washed off in a gross brown and red tint for a while before the water ran clear. Owain relaxed but didn’t overstay his welcome in the shower. When he was sure he was clean, Owain shut the shower off through trial and error. He then stepped out and saw that under the towel was a clean pair of boxers and some dark sweatpants. No shirt. Owain dried his hair and body, dressed, and then folded the towel like a proper guest.

Exiting, Owain saw that Niles was indeed outside the bathroom. He looked clean. Somehow, he must have found the time to quickly wash his face and hands.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your shower.” Owain told Niles. “And for the clothes. Though I don’t have a shirt.” Owain then realized how rude that sounded. “I mean, it is spring and I could walk outside without a shirt but that would be a bit chilly.”

“Who said you’re leaving?” Niles countered.

Owain snapped his mouth shut. “Oh… you don’t want me to go?” That made sense. They probably wanted to make sure Owain wouldn’t talk, even though, as Owain told them earlier, he didn’t truly have evidence to bring forward. “Will you keep me here for forever? I’d prefer if we discussed some liberties and freedoms of my person if that’s the case. Or maybe consider not keeping me here for forever?”

“You’re immortal,” Niles pointed out, “doesn’t that make document forging and owning property rather difficult? Besides, is there anyone who’d wonder where you are?”

“Who said I was immortal for long?” Owain shot back though that was a lie. “And I have friends you know.”

“Oh? Do you?”

“Yes?” Owain stared at Niles. “Look, maybe we can discuss this with Leo present as well? I’m sure the last thing you two want to do is babysit me under some deluded idea that I’m going to expose you two.”

“Is it deluded?”

Owain whipped his head around and saw Leo standing by the top of the stairs. “We like our lifestyle and we won’t let anyone jeopardize it. You cannot die, yes, but we could very well work out a way to keep you here with us. Survival is all about adapting.”

No doubt if Owain did anything too strange or risky they’d stab him again. Maybe that was why they didn’t give him a shirt. One less thing to worry about cleaning up. Also, Owain had no doubt that they’d go through with their threat. He didn’t fancy being locked up and Owain was sure his friends wouldn’t appreciate trying to find him.

“Look,” Owain carefully said, “perhaps you think I’m keeping my composure and merely am waiting for the stage to empty out before I deliver some soul wrenching soliloquy about life, death, and humanity. You’re waiting for moral alignment to burst down from the heavens and enlighten me in the purity of justice, good, and evil.”

Owain paused. “I’ll be honest with you two, I’ve been alive for centuries. Time has blurred together for me and I’ve seen life and death. Yes, I believe every person deserves to live their lives freely and happily. I don’t revel in violence or enjoy it gratuitously. However, people should die in the end. Death isn’t scary. Your desires clash with morals established by humanity. You two savour the thrill and control and the balance of life and death in your hands. You two cannot turn that off just like a tiger cannot turn it off. However, you two have a choice.”

“If you’re going to say we have a choice to listen to that desire or not I’m going to stab you between the eyes regardless of the mess.” Niles warned.

“…I wasn’t going to say that.” Owain sighed. “Fate has bound us together and brought us here but you’re wasting your time worrying about our meeting. So, why not, instead of wasting energy baby sitting me thinking I have perfectly aligned morals after centuries of seeing death and life, you two let me go and then—"

“Are you saying you don’t care if we kill someone tomorrow night the same way we were going to kill you?” Leo cut Owain off.

“…I suppose so?” Owain rubbed his head. “I mean, I don’t really care what you two are doing. Besides, you two cannot kill me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Leo asked at the same time Niles muttered “What the hell?”

“I’m saying, honestly, you don’t need to worry about me telling anyone,” Owain said. “So, you can let me go.”

Silence. Then Leo spoke very softly.

“Are you being sincere with us? We can just let you go and you’ll not say anything to anyone?”

“Is that not what I just said?”

“You truly don’t care what we do?”

“I mean, hurting others isn’t nice but I suppose the world isn’t fair.”

“Isn’t fair, huh?” Niles repeated.

Owain shrugged feeling like he didn’t have a lot more to offer. “So… uh… is it a deal? You let me go? I’m kind of hoping so… I’m a bit hungry.”

“Immortal and you need to eat?” Leo asked immediately.

“Reflex.” Owain replied automatically. “I don’t really need food but I really like it. Same with sleep.”

Leo hummed before he turned. “We have some food in the kitchen.”

Owain beamed. “Wait, you’ll feed me and actually let me go home?”

Leo didn’t reply and lead Owain to the kitchen. Their kitchen was large with an island that allowed for bar stools to be placed around it. There was also a table of the side. Leo walked over to the spacious fridge and opened it, pulling things out. Niles followed and flicked the lights on.

“Sit.” He pointed to the bar stools.

Owain did and sunk into the leather seats. After sitting in that uncomfortable chair for an undisclosed amount of time he was grateful for comfort. Leo was by the sink rummaging around the drawers but Niles was ahead of him, pulling out a glass and pouring juice into it.

“Here.” He passed it to Owain a second later.

“Thanks.”

Owain sipped it. The juice tasted a bit off. He drank it anyways, the entire thing. At the bottom it was a bit cloudy, like juice crystals weren’t stirred properly. Owain drank it all and grimaced at the off taste. He set the glass down though, not wanting to complain.

“You have a nice kitchen too.” Owain filled the silence with his chatter. “I like the openness of your place. Oh, and the colours of your home.” Owain looked at the warm beige of the walls. “You two picked well. Is it just you two living here? Oh wait, I suppose so. My bad. Silly question.”

Owain laughed sharply before his head throbbed a bit. Grimacing Owain closed his eyes. Too much excitement from the day he supposed. Rubbing his temples, Owain watched Leo put a pot of soup on the stove and then put some thick, rustic looking bread in a toaster. The soup had to be tomato based because Owain started to smell tomatoes and basil. He smiled and rubbed his head again.

“Something wrong?” Niles asked, sitting beside Owain, pushing a second glass towards Owain. This one was just water.

“Just a headache.” Owain replied. “Too much excitement for the day. Anyways, thanks for offering to feed me."

Niles stared at Owain for a long second before sighing. “Didn’t work I suppose.”

“Didn’t what work?” Owain asked, tilting his head.

“Poison.” Niles calmly replied before he sipped Owain’s water. “It’s clean.” He moved the glass towards Owain.

It took Owain a second.

“Oh, that’s why the juice tasted weird. What did you put in it?”

“Arsenic.” Niles waved a package that was clearly poison meant for a rat or rodent problem.

“Ah. Why did you do that?” Owain asked, furrowing his brow.

“Curiosity and boredom. That and the element of surprise is the best.” Niles told Owain. “By the way, you’ll need to get a new cellphone. We destroyed your old one.”

So that’s what happened to his phone. Not that Owain was thinking about it until Niles brought it up. “I’ll do that tomorrow.”

“We’ll take you to the shop.” Leo offered, turning around placing a steaming bowl of soup in front of Owain along with a plate of buttered toast.

“Thanks.” Owain said in reply to both the offer and food. “Wow, that was quick.”

“Our stove is really efficient.” Leo muttered. “I hope you don’t mind us keeping you here just for tonight. It will give us a peace of mind. Plus, it will be easier to take you to buy a new cellphone.”

Owain bit into the toast. He supposed outright demanding to be let go when they didn’t know him well enough was stretching a bit too far. “Just tonight.”

“Just tonight, I promise.” Leo assured. “I’m starting to believe you regarding your skewed morals.”

Owain laughed a little and then blew on his soup. It was very hot but delicious. “I’m glad to hear? Oh, and thanks for the soup.” He then began to eat the soup quickly.

“Tonight, has been the strangest night of my life.” Niles muttered as Owain ate.

Owain wanted to tell Niles his strangest night was waking up immortal but then saw Leo nod in agreement. It caused Owain to give a bit of thought about it before he nodded along, silently agreeing with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Oblivious Owain: He strikes again lol
> 
> Others: -cough I may be hinting that the Awakening kiddos are immortal cough not too who beyond the usual suspects plus Lucina-
> 
> Do you want this back: In reference to that meme with characters responding in different ways after being stabbed.
> 
> Owain's explanation: Don't read too far into it. I don't have a clear backstory ironed out.
> 
> Groundhog Day: If anyone isn't aware I am referencing an actual movie
> 
> Tattoos/ Piercings: Just my headcanon that if Owain can heal himself from death that things like piercings and tattoos will heal too.
> 
> Loose morals: I imagine after living for long morals may be skewed. It's a common trope for immortals in media and while I'd like to shake that trope up some day today isn't the day I do that.
> 
> Arsenic: I cannot remember if rat/rodent killing pellets are still having an arsenic base but they can and it's a common household item.


End file.
